


The Dog's Collar

by junko



Series: 'Tails' of Zabimaru [12]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-12
Updated: 2012-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-12 00:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji goes to a lot of trouble to arrange to get a weekend pass from Academy to see Rukia inside the Seireitei, only things get… awkward quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dog's Collar

Renji set the pile of papers in front of Nakamura, the zanpaktō instructor at Academy that he’d been working with as a kind of ‘punishment’ after a rude outburst in class. Over the past couple of weeks, they’d managed to clean most of the clutter of the instructor’s office, and now Renji had moved up to actually doing a bit of Academy business for Nakamura. “These just need your mark, sir,” he said.

Sensei read through each slowly and Renji tried not to act anxious or feel the intense inspection of Kuroi no Kumo, Nakamura’s zanpaktō, at his back, from where she hung on the wall.

“And what’s this?” Nakamura asked, holding up the one form Renji had been hoping to slide in surreptitiously among the others.

“A request for a weekend pass,” Renji admitted. “You’ll see I’ve already gotten two other instructors’ signatures. I only need three more, and I was hoping you’d be one of them, sir.”

Sensei looked up at where Renji stood beside his desk. He seemed to be trying to find something in Renji’s face. Finally, Nakamura asked, “You have… family? You would return to Inuzuri?”

Renji would rather poke his eyes out with stick than go back to that hellhole, “No, sir. The request is for a visit to the Seireitei. That’s why I need so many people to sign off. I need to get a visitors’ visa.”

A funny sort of smile curled the edges of Nakamura’s thin lips. “It’s a collar, you know. You’ll have to wear it the whole weekend.”

Renji nodded curtly. When the first instructor had told him about that requirement, he’d nearly jettisoned the entire plan, but he was going to see Rukia. He’d missed her early graduation party and he was determined to give her a proper good-bye. Renji had even written to Captain Ukitake to make sure of his timing, so he’d be able to catch Rukia when she’d have some time to hang out with him. He and Ukitake conspired to surprise her; all that would be ruined if he couldn’t collect the necessary number of signatures, though.

“I’m curious,” the instructor said, dipping his pen in ink, “What’s so important inside the Seireitei that someone like you would agree to such a thing?”

This was the one question that every single instructor he’d approached had wanted to know. Most of them phrased it differently, but Renji had stumbled through his answer so many times that he’d finally pared it down to something that absolutely everyone understood almost immediately, “A girl.”

“Ah, of course,” Nakamura said. Having paused for the answer, he now added his name. “Someone you met during your internship, I take it?”

“She’s at the Thirteenth, yes,” Renji said, which wasn’t really what Nakamura had asked, but it was a simpler response than explaining the long and complicated history he and Rukia shared. 

“Oh? An officer? Well, well, that’s a bit indelicate, isn’t it?” Nakamura said, handing Renji the pass with a lascivious smile. “Is she much older than you? I hope you’ve at least picked someone well placed, high in rank, so perhaps she can find a seat for you if you keep her sweet.”

Renji frowned, tucking the pass into his kosode, “It’s not like that with us.”

“Sure,” Nakamura said, still with the sly smile that Renji was beginning to want to punch off his face. “Perhaps I know her, what’s her name?”

“You don’t know her,” Renji said impatiently, wishing there was some way to get out of this conversation before he lost his temper and did or said something that would get him in seriously deep trouble. 

“Zanpaktō theory is a required class, my boy. I’ve seen every single student to graduate in the last three hundred years.”

“Rukia graduated early, sir. She was privately tutored,” he explained.

Nakamura’s bushy gray eyebrows shot up nearly to the top of his forehead. “Rukia? Rukia Kuchiki?”

Renji couldn’t stop the blush that bloomed on his cheeks, so he just nodded.

“Oh, my, my,” Nakamura shook his head. His eyes on the spot in Renji’s kosode where the pass had disappeared into, as if he suddenly wanted it back so he could remove his name. “I’m not sure all the signatures in the Soul Society will save you, if the Kuchiki clan hears that a dirty dog like you plans to visit one of theirs.”

Renji had no idea what else transpired during his time with Nakamura because of the red haze in front of his eyes and the roar of the mentally repeated a variation on his internal mantra, _‘I will not kill an instructor before graduation. I will not kill…_.” 

When he was finally out of the office and down the hall, Renji nearly broke a knuckle hitting the wall.

#

He hadn’t intended to, but Renji had backed away from the shinigami holding the ribbon of bright blue cloth. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it, until he nearly knocked over the pile of merchandise that the old woman behind him in the queue had stacked up beside her. He apologized and stepped forward again, “Explain again why it can’t just go on my wrist?”

“It has to be plainly visible at all times,” the shinigami said, though she gave Renji a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry to say, but the truth is that it was specifically designed with the intention of making visitors feel uncomfortable… uh, especially those from further out.” 

Renji still hesitated.

“Look, son,” the older woman said, patting him on the arm, “At least it’s a students’ pass. The color won’t let anyone mistake you for anything else. And, if you keep your mouth shut, no one will have to know where you’re from. Though,” she added with a kind smile, “If you were my boy, I’d be right proud to hear you speak, seeing as you’ve got Academy blues.”

With the old lady’s encouragement, he was able to stay still the next time the shinigami approached.

Even so, it was much harder to accept the collar than Renji ever imagined. His jaw was clenched so hard he was in danger of cracking teeth and he was pretty sure his fingernails had left half-moon-shaped cuts deep in his palms. The whole thing was made that much worse by the fact he stood a lot taller than the solider putting it on him, and he had to bend over almost in half for her to be able to reach around his neck.

Just a bit of cloth, really, but Renji imagined it constricted around his throat like hand, closing off his ability to breathe normally. The burst of kidō surprised him, too, though he managed not to jerk away too sharply. He supposed the magic was part of how the gate would recognize him, but the addition of the spell made his skin crawl even more.

How was he going to endure this for an entire weekend?

“Right, there you go,” the shinigami said, after it was secured. “Welcome to the Seireitei. Remember, if you remove the collar, or even tear it accidentally, you’ll be treated like as hostile invader.”

Renji nodded, and tucked Rukia’s present under his arm. As he walked cautiously across the invisible barrier, the old woman caught his eye and gave him another reassuring smile. Renji stopped and waited for her get her own collar, a black merchant’s band, and then reaching for her heaviest-looking bag, said, “Let me carry these for you, obaa-san. It’s the least I can do for you.”

“I knew you were a good boy. You’ll be alright,” she said, tucking her arm under his as she directed him where she wanted to go. “I know what it means to have to suffer the comments you’re sure to get, but you mustn’t let anyone diminish your pride. You’ve come a long way if you’re wearing that uniform. Don’t you forget it.”

“No, ma’am.”

#

The old merchant woman was ready to adopt Renji after he helped her set up her stall. As he didn’t have an appointment with Ukitake until that afternoon, it seemed like a fine way to pass a little time. Especially since wandering around aimlessly seemed like a bad idea, given how acutely aware he remained of that thing wrapped around his neck. The last thing he wanted was to run into someone he knew, like Ikkaku or Yumichika, who would be sure to crack wise about it.

Turns out the old lady had lost a son in Inuzuri. Renji didn’t ask details, but he could guess it was either to hunger or violence. So he promised to stay out of trouble and stop back to visit her stall if he got a chance. Since she sold yaki imo, roasted sweet potatoes, seeing her again wouldn’t be such a terrible hardship. In fact, she made Renji take one ‘as a sample’ before sending him on his way to the Thirteenth.

#

Renji expected the twinge of jealousy at seeing Rukia in uniform, but he hadn’t anticipated how he’d feel watching her interact with Lieutenant Shiba. Ukitake had shown Renji to a grassy area near a back practice yard where they’d begun seting up a kind of picnic party that would serve as both a surprise and a low-key welcoming ceremony for Rukia. 

As he helped set out picnic baskets and other arrangements, Renji’s eyes kept being drawn to where the two of them sparred in the field. He’d never see Rukia fight like this. She was… absolutely terrible. Despite her spirit and determination, Shiba easily disarmed her more than once. Renji couldn’t help but cringe, embarrassed on her behalf. He knew she could hold her own in a street brawl, but apparently zanjitsu wasn’t a strength.

The rumors about her might be right; she’d clearly graduated too early.

It was just as obvious Rukia was totally in love with Shiba.

Turning back to help Ukitake with a tent pole, Renji noticed Miyako staring down at the field, too. Shiba’s wife. Was Rukia’s crush apparent to her as well? 

When their eyes met Miyako gave Renji a soft smile and came over. “We’ve missed you,” she said brightly. 

_Bullshit_ , Renji thought. Thanks to all the paperwork, he’d been crabby and almost viciously antisocial the whole time he interned here. He just nodded to be polite, and then asked with a jerk of his chin in the direction of the field, “You know if Rukia doing okay? She seems a bit… behind.”

Miyako laughed. It was a sweet, charming sound. “The motto here is ‘Hope.’ It’s not as though they’re well-known as a fighting corps like the Eleventh.”

“Right,” Renji said, but he wasn’t convinced. All the divisions were meant to defend the Imperial City, and, he knew from the paperwork he’d maintained, a surprising number of the shinigami of the Thirteenth ended up in the human world on fairly dangerous patrols. Still, he tried to convince himself by saying, “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

Miyako glanced at Ukitake. The captain had his back to them and was mediating a squabble that had broken out between his two adoring Third Seats. She leaned in to Renji and whispered, “You know I’m the Third over at the Sixth now, since Kaien and I were married? Well, I know for a fact that that brother of hers has been over here a lot. I can only guess what he and Ukitake have been discussing.”

 _Rukia_.

She nodded at the understanding in Renji’s expression. “Let’s just say,” Miyako said before turning back to put the finishing touches on the decorations, “I think she’ll be kept safe.”

Was that fair? What kind of career was Rukia going to have if everyone was treating her with kid gloves? Renji glanced back down at the pair. It seemed Kaien had convinced Rukia to quit for now—part of the ruse to get her to come up for the picnic—but she was pouting, clearly not happy with her performance either, and desperate to continue the private lesson.

But, Rukia was all smiles after everyone shouted ‘surprise,’ and she all but jumped into Renji’s arms when she finally noticed him. He relished the press of her body against his and the smell of her sweat, a scent that brought back memories instantly. It was hard to believe it was only three years ago they were on the streets together, dreaming of coming here and being shinigami. “Oi, careful,” he teased her, after she’d squeezed his neck in a big, almost painful hug. “Don’t want to rip this stupid thing.”

Rukia’s eyes went round with horror when she saw the collar. Then, her face crumpled in a kind of disgusted anger. “I can’t believe you have to wear that,” she said in a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“What? It’s not your fault,” Renji said. When she continued to sneer at it, he added, “Look, it only bothers me when I think about it--which is pretty much all the time--so you should be really grateful I care enough about you to come here looking like this.”

“Oh, I am, Renji,” she smiled again. They settled down together on the edge of the large blanket under the shade of the tent. “I really am. I… we missed each other at my good-bye party.”

“We did,” he said. “I didn’t mean to miss it. Ironically, I was here, filing the last bit of paperwork.”

She laughed a little about that. “Kaien told me about your obsession,” she said, taking a daifuku, a mochi sweet, from a plate offered to her by one of the servers. “But, I thought maybe you were mad at me, too.”

Renji had to resist the urge to grab as many treats as he could, and hide some in his pockets for later. But, he managed to pick just one, one he hoped seemed most likely to have red bean paste inside. “Why would I be mad at you?”

Her eyes slid away, “Because I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve any of it, I never have. I don’t know why the Kuchikis picked me, of all the people in the world. They don’t even really like me, Renji.”

“Aw, come on,” he said. “That can’t be true.”

She looked miserable.

He put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her in tightly against him. “So fuck them,” he said. When she looked up at his harsh words, he glanced around at the gathered shinigami of the Thirteenth, “The Kuchikis were just a way to get here--to your real family. These are your new brothers and sisters, Rukia. These are the only people that really matter now. And you can’t tell me you don’t fit in here.”

“I do,” she breathed, suddenly sounding more confident, though her voice was tremulous with emotion. “I love it here, Renji.”

He nodded and let her go. “I thought you might. Now let me see that zanpaktō of yours. I’ve been dying to finally meet her.”

“How do you know it’s not a ‘him’?”

“Is it?” Renji asked, though he’d already sensed the presence at her side, beautiful and cold as ice. 

“No, of course not, I just want to know how come you always know.” She stood up to pull the sheath from her hip. She handed it to him, “Here, take a look.”

“Are you sure you want me to hold her?”

“Don’t be an idiot. You’re my best friend, who else would I trust with her?”

Reverently, Renji took her zanpaktō in open palms and laid it across his lap. “She’s beautiful,” he said. “Do you know her name yet?”

Rukia shook her head, looking a bit frustrated again. “She’s not as talkative as your Zabimaru, I guess.”

“I think he and I are kind of… unusual,” Renji admitted. He handed the zanpaktō back. Despite what Rukia said, Renji was super aware how personal and intimate it was for him to be touching her sword. It seemed a deeper step into their relationship than ‘just friends.’ He watched her put it back into place a little jealously. Who knew how long until he’d finally have Zabimaru at his side?

“I hope she'll tell me soon,” she said, her face all crumpled again.

“Don't worry. She'll tell you when you’re both ready.” Renji was about to reach out for her again, when a shadow fell across them. Then, a heartbeat later, Renji felt it—a crushing, breath-stealing reistsu. He didn’t even need to look up to know who had crashed the party.

Byakuya Kuchiki.

"Rukia," Byakuya said, his deep voice full of warning. "Your puppy has a collar, but seems to have slipped his leash. Tell him if he touchs you or your zanpaktō again, I will see him whipped."

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger! There will be more ASAP, I promise!
> 
> More alternatives in my alternate universe—I know Miyako Shiba is supposed to be the Third Seat while Kaien is Second, but my brain completely rebels at that situation. I realize the Gotei 13 is possibly the shoddiest military in the history of all military units, but it really should be against the rules to have a husband as the direct commanding officer of a wife. 
> 
> So, I did what the real military would do in this situation, I transferred her. Since the Third Seat at the Sixth is a continuing mystery, I thought she would do fine there. There’s also no reason history can’t continue on as shown/written, since I’m sure – occasionally—units work together. I suppose it would make more sense to have put her as the Third in the Eighth (whose other members really are a complete blank, as well), since Ukitake and Kyōraku are always shown/written working together, and, in my alternate universe she could still have insider information being part of the spy corps—but, I wanted her to have a reason to directly gossip about Byakuya (a spy wouldn’t do that, unless it served her purposes.)
> 
> The collar as pass into the Seireitei comes from an earlier work of mine, "Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall..." Renji didn't need one during his summer internship because it was a long-term visit and had a captain/division vouching for him, as well as an "address" inside the walls. I don't explain that here because I couldn't come up with a way to slide it in that wasn't awkward.


End file.
